Beware my cautionary tale: When bowling in a league, or around older (read: 100+ years) women, be on the lookout for this alarming sight:
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfr8-lme66QaqMwQbuPvC9_3kd4Du3FTBmowJxAW2_NhqQrePWGhJRN3Uj7c4R1uKt5n6oWN15u8H9-UkNal1c6Zojin2p4NY5rPSqQr0RnJhske7uYdyNGzgxCwD4ph7kW5gWEcQNVWU/s200/duster.jpg)
This should never be trusted, as it's full of awful, terrible smells, the likes of which are expelled
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxgoNWEJ1_u3E7qcRyQ3nRJe_ge_acjb8PJnRBSL4veMtiit0xKScWqF2UIbgGr1yjl6hcMIIzRg0ViOhPAq9MrmQSfPzBnR00qVEA7QOvxuVyVQZUY17S48HigzMAoatHCOPbhN9e-IA/s200/laurie.jpg)
from her body everytime she walks by. It was cropdusting at its worst. I thought perhaps she might have pooped her pants; alas, she was just farting as she walked by, thinking the rest of us were somehow missing our ability to smell. No such luck. Darn other team.
On a positive note, the hat I made for Laurie's niece turned out well. I was afraid it might be too small, but it looks like it was right on target. Hooray! Someone asked if I sell my hats - can you imagine? :)
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